Among Gods and Monsters
by SlytherclawQueen
Summary: He looked the way she imagined the devil to look, so beautiful it hurt, but so evil it made the beauty twisted and hideous all at the same time. He was all sharp features, and even sitting on a wooden bench among others he stood out. He was a spot of black ink on a stark white piece of paper..."You don't understand Ginevra...you are my failsafe...And you will give in..."
1. Chapter 1

**Warning:** _This story will be dark and will not be a healthy relationship. This is a Voldemort/Tom Riddle story, a character that is twisted and warped beyond imagination. I wish to do him justice, to give layers to the dark character he is. This will be a story about manipulation, obsession, lust, abuse, and internal struggle to do what's right when temptation is threatening to shatter all you thought you were. Ginny will go through big changes and might not end up pulling herself out of the void that is Lord Voldemort. There will be no declarations of love, only cruel seduction and questionable intentions._

 _Turn back now if you think this might not be for you. This will be the only warning I give throughout the story since I don't want to overload it with AN and I expect this story to be long._

 _Enjoy and please review if you would like this story to continue and at a timely manor._

 **Chapter One**

 _"I am terrified by this dark thing that sleeps in me;  
All day I feel its soft, feathery turnings, its malignity."_

 _ **May 2**_ _ **nd**_ _ **1998, Saturday**_

Fury burned through her like fire spreading through her veins and morphing into a burning, raging hatred. Her skin itched, her mind screamed, her heart thundered and blocked out all other sounds.

Lupin, Tonks, Dumbledore, Sirius; they were gone. Fred... he was gone too...

Her eyes, which were like empty glass, slowly changed with the unstable woman's cruel taunts, resembling an unsteady volcano ready to erupt. Her ears were blocked, muffling the cries and screams of the battle raging on around her. Her vision was frayed at the edges, almost as if she were in a dream and none of it was real.

 _What are you doing?_ She heard a muffled voice, her voice, say in the back of her distorting mind. Whatever malevolent being controlling her body pushed that small voice back until it was too far to be heard.

Ginny chased after Bellatrix, following her outside where few were and away from her friends and family which were fighting for their lives in the Great Hall. She always had a thirst for blood towards the unhinged witch, and now witnessing so many deaths and even being responsible for some herself... she knew the death of Bellatrix would not solve anything, but it sure as hell wouldn't hurt.

"Poor little girl. The sight of your dead older brother makes you want to cry doesn't it? Poor, whittle-bitty baby!"

Ginny clenched her fist, her body shaking as time seemed to slow. She raised her wand, her hand oddly steady despite the fervid fog in her brain.

She remembered how Dumbledore looked at her after the Chamber of Secrets in her first year. Under the sympathy for a young girl nearly being killed was alarm. She didn't realize it at the time, but she understood it now as something dark tore its way from deep within her soul.

 _"Everyone is born with light and dark deep within them Miss Weasley, some just lean more one way than the other. Once you get a taste of the darkness... it's hard to turn back,"_ he told her when she asked him why Riddle, Voldemort, turned out the way he did.

She thought him to be her friend. He showed her what appeared to be true friendship.

He manipulated her, playing her like a fiddle while she embarrassingly spilled her deepest thoughts and secrets like the desperate child she was.

And underneath the fear was anger. A lot of anger.

Dumbledore looked at her with such scrutiny, like he was trying to see which way _she_ leaned.

She always considered herself to be a good person. She was caring towards those she loved and humorous when others needed a good laugh. She was perhaps a bit too temperamental, but it was only because she was passionate. She felt things deeply and was known to take revenge on those who wronged her and her loved ones.

She may be a bit unforgiving and vengeful, and she may have a mean streak a mile wide, but she never _really_ hurt anyone. She did her best to treat others how she wanted to be treated.

But in the back of her mind, the part that wasn't too consumed by rage to think, she realized as she watched the curse leave her wand that maybe Dumbledore saw something much darker within her when she was only a child and too young to see it herself.

Because, as the curse hit the unhinged, confounded witch, Ginny felt satisfaction and joy break way through the hatred, a small laugh escaping her dry lips.

"Crucio," a voice so detached, so foreign had said. The word was spoken with such a decisive frigidness she didn't even recognize the husky alto... but she knew it to be her own voice, her own body, her own hate that fueled her on.

Bellatrix screamed, thrashed, convulsed, but Ginny didn't stop. Not until Bellatrix could no longer shout, her voice giving out and her body under too much stress to do much else.

Only then did Ginny stop, a sardonic, infernal smile twisting up the pretty redhead's face. Like a predator she tilted her head, staring down at the older woman who caused them so much pain; caused Harry so much pain.

Bellatrix opened her dark eyes, meeting Ginny's flaming gaze.

She lifted her pale hand once more, making the older woman's eyes widen as blood leaked from her nose. Bellatrix, barely more than a shell of a person, smiled, her nasty rotting teeth flashing different colors as spells danced around them like fireworks.

Red slowly took over Ginny's vision, her mind swirling until black swept her away and left her in a sea of empty darkness. She could see small flashes of green, hear the screams of fear and outrage, but each time she found herself overtaken by the dark again and she didn't try to fight it. The part of her that was still her was frightened, afraid of what would happen were she to unveil her eyes.

It was too much madness... It was just too much...

Suddenly it stopped, the world snapping back into place and bringing Ginny to her knees as she was harshly pulled back into awareness like she had been drowning for days.

She fell forward, a stinging, burning pain shooting through her chest as her stomach turned inside out in nausea. The dim lighting stung her eyes. Before she could stop it, she was vomiting a black tar substance and dry heaving until there was nothing left in her stomach.

Still kneeling she lifted her head, her eyes wide with fright as she examined the scene she was kneeling in the middle of. Tears entered her eyes, her shaky dirt stained hands covering her mouth as a horrified sob left her cracked, bloodied lips.

In front of her was Bellatrix Lestrange, dead and open eyes unseeing as she stared at Ginny with insane amusement warping her hollowed out face.

Her eyes were empty, an image that would haunt Ginny to her grave.

 _"Harry Potter has won! Voldemort is dead!"_ someone announced magically, their voice traveling throughout the whole battle ground with a slight echo.

The young witch barely even registered their words as she took in the dead bodies surrounding her, some Death Eaters and some... not.

Did she... had she...

She couldn't even form the question.

A strangled sob left her lips as she clenched her eyes shut, shaking her head in disbelief. All she remembered were flashes of green and shouting. She couldn't have killed them; she couldn't have. She wouldn't have...

She screamed as the pain ripped through her aching chest, feeling as if a hand was reaching into her very soul and squeezing it. It felt like something was tearing her apart, something with sharp teeth and claws.

 _Avada Kedavra,_ her mind echoed, the voice so cold and cruel that she refused to believe it had been her own.

Only a foot from her was none other than Terry Boot, his brown eyes looking right at her and his expression stuck in terrified surprise. He never saw it coming...

She hadn't spoken to Terry once in their years at Hogwarts since he was in Ravenclaw and a year ahead, but he was kind and joined Harry's DA meetings when she was in fourth year. He was talented with dueling, very quick to pick up complicated spells, and yet he was looking right at her like she was... like she was a threat.

Like she was the enemy.

Reality hit her like a bucket of cold ice as her hand dropped from her mouth. She felt herself swaying, the pain in her chest easing to a dull pulsing until she became completely numb.

She glanced around again, tears falling mechanically down her flushed cheeks as she took in how silent it was. The war was over and everyone was going to move on and rebuild their lives.

But they didn't murder people, some who were supposed to be allies. They weren't _monsters_.

 _ **August 15th 1998, Friday**_

Harry could feel the frown tugging at his lips as his eyes trailed over her tall, lean frame. He tilted his head, the green in his eyes dark with concern. She kept her back to him, her long mahogany red hair swaying with the soft breeze.

In his mind he could picture her soft, silky pale skin, freckle free besides a few on her shoulders and nose from the Sun. Her eyes, a soft brown, were also speckled with vibrant amber which flashed when she was mad.

A beautiful sight.

The older she got the less like a Weasley she looked, favoring her Prewett family members instead. Unlike the Weasley's who had bright orange hair and freckles for days, Charlie and Ginny had more of a reddish brown color. Instead of her skin having the reddish tint that Ron suffered from, her skin was peach, kissed by the Sun though far from tan.

None of her brothers had her skin tone.

She was beautiful and he kicked himself for not seeing it sooner, but now that Voldemort was dead Ginny seemed...detached. Only three months have passed since the final battle. They decided to spend it at Hogwarts and help with the rebuild. Most of them who stayed to help were without homes or were so shocked by the death of loved ones that they were afraid to step back into casual life.

She hardly said a word to anyone.

He understood, she did lose her brother and witnessed a lot of death within a small amount of time, but she didn't cry, didn't scream, didn't do anything. That was unlike Ginny.

She carefully avoided anyone getting her alone and deflected any question directed her way. He knew Ginny could be quite manipulative when she wanted to be, but it was strange seeing a mask tightly placed as she resembled the Ginny he knew then suddenly shatter once she was out of the line of fire.

It reminded him...well, it reminded him of the memories Dumbledore showed him of Voldemort back at Hogwarts. That bothered him. A lot. But the comparison wouldn't go away, nor would the dreadful feeling that things weren't over.

Far from over actually. He had a bad feeling...and the youngest Weasley was at the center of it.

"What happened Ginny?" Harry asked as he stepped closer to the witch who had yet to acknowledge his presence.

A breeze ruffled their clothes, bringing the scent of strawberry's and...

Harry stiffened as the smell of ashes nearly choked him, though it was faint. It was the scent of dark magic, the darkest magic. Harry only noticed because he was unfortunately very sensitive after his connection to Voldemort, but it always left behind a smell as if the evil came from the very soul and left through the pores. It was like the body was trying to get rid of toxic gas and cleanse itself.

It only stuck around...if the killing curse was used and more than once.

"Did you..." he stopped as the breeze shifted direction, allowing him to breathe in fresh air which he gulped down urgently, "cast an Unforgivable?"

Finally Ginny responded, her body slowly turning around like she was a doe getting ready to dart away from a threat. Harry frowned deeply, his eyes meeting her vacant ones. They said the eyes were a doorway to one's soul...he hated to think of what that meant for Ginny, who was the most lively, confident person he had ever met.

Until now.

Harry didn't care about the smell of dark magic that still lingered around the younger witch as he walked closer to her with concern and unfortunately suspicion on his face. It meant bad things if she cast the killing curse. It splits up your soul, tainting you forever.

His unease was not unnoticed by the redhead and she took a step back in return.

Harry froze.

"They say war changes people, but maybe they force you to see yourself for who you really are rather it be brave, weak, cowardly...or a murderer."

Harry didn't respond for a moment as he looked Ginny over before his face softened, his affection for her shining in his eyes. He could see now that she was torn, hurting from whatever demons were taunting her mind.

He wished she would open up to him so he could help her face it like she helped him face his.

He stepped towards her before she could turn away, his lips meeting hers gently, afraid that she would pull away. She remained stiff and still, but Harry didn't stop as he put everything he was feeling in that one simple kiss.

Pain, fear, love, guilt; he wanted her to feel it all.

He pulled back and sighed against her lips as he gently tugged her to him and held her. Her arms didn't wrap around him as she stood like a statue, reeking of burning wood and ashes.

Destruction.

And the smell wasn't fading.

He remembered the end of the war when Ginny walked into the Great Hall, her hair a mess and body bloodied and bruised. Her family pulled her into a group hug, all of them crying in relief and pain as they surrounded Fred's body. Ginny, however didn't even so much as react, her face a blank canvas as she looked at her lifeless brother without a word.

She was there, but at the same time it was as if Ginny was left behind in the war along with all of her feelings and dreams. When she finally came out on the other end, who would she be?

"I love you Ginny, no matter what," he whispered into her hair.

"I know," she whispered back, her voice cracking at the end.

In the back of his mind, he knew... he just knew that he had lost her.

The next day when he woke up to a frantic Hermione and a crying Mrs. Weasley all he could do was close his eyes...but he didn't say a word.

 _ **August 16th, 1998, Saturday**_

Ever since she blacked out and woke up in a field of dead bodies, Ginny hadn't felt...right. Nothing seemed to interest her anymore, and anytime she closed her eyes, she saw life flicker like a flame before death laid its claim.

She knew there was no other way for her to survive the war without taking life. Sometimes there was just no right way. But she hadn't simply killed for survival; she had tortured, murdered and laughed. Something primal seemed to be right under her skin, scratching to be let loose...and she never noticed just how strong of a grip it had on her.

She saw it for what it was now; every time she lied, lashed out, talked bad about someone behind their back, or hurt another in her anger...

She didn't know how to get rid of the itch that was never scratched; the whisper in her brain telling her to punish those she disliked or had done her wrong. She felt like at any moment she was going to snap...

It frightened her.

It horrified her.

So she packed herself a small bag and waited until everyone was asleep and left with only a small twinge of guilt breaking through her resolve. She was finally old enough to Apparate. Her plan was to go outside the barriers and head to London before figuring out her next move.

She knew she couldn't stay, not while the people she loved were at risk by being near her. She wasn't sure how long it would be before she snapped again and ended up with more bodies trailing behind her. She couldn't risk her loved ones being in the way when that happened, nor could she face them once they witnessed the poisonous venom slowly taking her over.

She needed to get away. She needed a place where she could find herself again. She needed to remember what happiness was and get rid of the aching pain in her heart and mind.

She needed someone who would understand the fracture in her soul, the corruption in her mind and the darkness taking a grip on her.

She gasped as an electric shock spread throughout her body, warming her up from the inside out. She spun on her heel, her wide eyes staring at the Forbidden Forest, which was flashing a brilliant, eerie blue. She hesitated for only a moment before something began to tug at her magical core, coaxing and almost painful.

And then she was running.

Her heart pounded like thunder in her chest as she entered the forest, tripping over roots though she didn't dare fall. The forest itself was pulsating, the blue light fading behind her and falling into complete darkness.

She was no longer sure if she was running to catch the source of the blue light or running away from the shadows chasing her, but it was leading her deeper into the forest towards something or perhaps even someone.

Finally, she broke through a clearing after what felt like hours of running, her legs giving out on her as she fell forward onto her hands and knees. What on earth was she doing chasing after an unknown light in the Forbidden Forest of all places?

Merlin, she was so stupid! Stupid, stupid, stupid!

With a huff, she lifted her head, shifting the bag she had across her back in the process. She was frozen as she looked around at the scene, taking in the soft blue glow that still remained, though it was only in the clearing now.

She could smell the pine of the forest, stronger than she ever had before. Around her the air was warm, almost like soft breaths ghosting over her body. She realized after a moment that she could smell burning wood, fire embers; a scent she wouldn't think to be attractive.

It was, and the stronger the scent became, the more inebriated she felt and the harder her heart pounded in her chest.

She could feel her body shaking and gasping for breath. The air seemed to be electrified, magic licking at her skin sensually and making her shiver in pleasure and adrenalin.

"Who's there?" she whispered, her voice a mere husky moan as the delectable magic continued to swim around her, powerful and controlled.

She realized then it wasn't the clearing the light was coming from anymore.

It was her.

All within the span of a few seconds, a blinding blue light was pulsing once more, old magic coming straight from the ground and wrapping around Ginny like vines. She didn't even have time to scream before she was gone, sent to a place unknown with no sign that she had been there at all.

The wind rustling through the trees stopped dead in its tracks for a second or two before switching directions and continuing as if nothing strange and unusual had taken place, but nothing would ever be the same.

After all, strange things happen to those who meddle with time...

~W~W~W~

Armando Dippet was a strict, disciplined man despite how feeble he seemed to be getting in his elderly years, or so people say when they think he's not listening. He knew he only had a few more years left of being Headmaster of Hogwarts before Albus took his place, but he would miss the school and all the children he viewed as his own.

In truth Dippet loved children and always wanted a big family, but thus it was not in his destiny, though he ended up helping raise many children over the years. One of his favorites was Tom Riddle, who would be starting his last year of Hogwarts in just a week's time.

He was a talented, honest, brilliant young man.

Armando Dippet never felt more his age.

Not even the loss of hair and the time it took to get from point A to point B made him feel like such an old goat...

He was brought out of his musing as an alarm went off in his office, quickly putting him on high alert (though a small chuckle escaped his lips when he recognized Albus had at some point changed the alarm to the singing of an Ogre. Such a silly man...)

Someone who didn't belong somehow entered the grounds, breaking Hogwarts wards in the process.

As quickly as he could, he left his office in alarm, his wand held in front of him in case the intruder made their way into the castle. Most of the teachers were gone, enjoying their break, and the Headmaster didn't have time to call Albus for back up.

Regardless of how old he felt and how slow he moved, he would need to face the problem himself. He refused to have anything threaten his students when they returned, not when things had been so dismal the past couple of years.

When he finally made his way outside, he was not expecting to see a young redheaded girl passed out in the middle of the courtyard.

With his wand still raised he rushed as quickly towards her as his age would allow, casting a silent diagnostic to make sure she wasn't harmed. When everything checked out he sighed and rubbed the bridge of his large nose in frustration.

This was exactly what he didn't need, an unknown girl magically appearing on Hogwarts grounds, despite the wards that should have made that impossible!

Unless she appeared somewhere else and had found her way to Hogwarts somehow...and then passed out.

A frown tugged on his aged face as he examined her again, taking in her unusual and improper clothes. Weariness settled in his aged bones. None of it matched up or made sense.

"Armando, I came as soon as I saw that the wards were breached. Is everything okay?"

Dippet sighed in relief as he turned to meet the concerned and calculating cobalt blue eyes of the Deputy Headmaster. Dumbledore was not a young man, his auburn hair and beard mostly gray, but he moved like a man half his age and had a quick mind.

"I found her unconscious. She doesn't look from this time Albus. Merlin, look at how tight her pants are! Completely inappropriate. What do you make of her? And please change the alarm. You know I hate ogre music!"

Dumbledore's mouth twitched in amusement at his friends antics before he examined the girl more closely. Indeed her clothes were strange and nothing he's seen before in all the different cultures he's visited as a young man. Beside her was a tan carrying bag, pointing towards her running away from wherever she came from.

Could she possibly be a time traveler? If so, was she a threat to their time line and how did she get to their time? What time did she come from? How far was she from her time?

The possibilities were endless!

There were so many questions, but without the girl awake they wouldn't be able to truly know. He could try to read her mind, but if she were indeed from the future he didn't want to risk seeing something that would change the time line.

More than she already will.

He raised his wand, casting a wordless spell that soon had the girl jumping ten feet in the air, a small squeak leaving her lips. He rose a brow in amusement as her eyes darted around in grumpy anger, her face a dangerous shade of red as she looked for the perpetrator.

"A shocking spell, Albus?" Dippet chuckled as the girl's eyes landed on them.

More specifically on Dumbledore.

Both men watched her expression carefully as different emotions flickered across her face before she settled for confused.

But Dumbledore had seen shock, recognition and pain.

His curiosity was peeked, but he was also alarmed by the young girl. He would recognize dark magic anywhere, having dabbled in it in his younger years himself. This girl was hardly innocent.

"My dear, do you have any idea how you have come to arrive here?" Dippet asked as the child slowly stood on shaky legs, clutching her bag tightly to her chest, her clothes rumpled and dirty.

"No," she whispered, her eyes flickering back over to Dumbledore.

"Do you remember anything recent leading up to now?"

Her eyes, a soft brown with a amber hue, turned towards the Headmaster with a frown tugging on her lips. She looked like she hadn't slept in days, the black circles under her eyes prominent against her pale skin.

"No," she whispered so softly that both men had to strain to hear her.

"You poor child," Dippet cooed sadly, taking pity on the girl.

Dumbledore had to admit that she looked believable as she shuffled her feet, tilting her head down. Perhaps she wasn't faking her shock and confusion, but she was certainly hiding something.

He gently entered her mind only to quickly pull himself out with a wince. For whatever reason the girl was shouting loudly in her mind about puppies and knitted scarfs. She knew he, or at least someone, would try to read her mind.

But she didn't know Occlumency.

There was a war going on. If she was indeed from the future than he couldn't very well let the wrong hands get a hold of her.

Not to mention that if she turned out to be a threat than she would need to be dealt with accordingly. As of now she was a young girl in need of help. He would learn the truth sooner or later.

He believed the saying was keep your friends close and your enemies closer. Only time would tell which category she fell under.

"Do you remember your name?" Dumbledore questioned kindly, smiling encouragingly in hopes that she would be put at ease.

She returned his smile but it was more of a grimace. "My name is Ginevra...Prewett."

Dumbledore took note of her hesitation, but let it go for another time. He would question her, but not with Dippet next to him and out in the open. No Prewett's were currently attending Hogwarts, but they were a semi-known pureblood family that mainly resided in other parts of Europe and kept to themselves.

She was smart, he would give her that. No one would think twice about it.

"I see," he murmured softly. "And how old are you?"

She was quiet for a moment as she glanced around, an unknown frown on her face.

"Um, can I have the date?"

Dumbledore narrowed his eyes at the question, but Dippet, thinking nothing of it, answered without a beat. " My girl, it's August 16th ,1944. How hard did you hit your head?"

The girl blinked, her jaw going slack and eyes widening in shock. She shook her head and cleared her throat, her mouth opening and closing a few times as she digested the information.

"My apologies. I must of hit my head harder than I thought. I'm seventeen, sir."

Dippet clucked his tongue a few times as his aged face twisted in thought. There was definitely something strange about the girl, but it seemed as if she had nowhere else to go, and by the Ministry's standpoint she was an adult so a guardian was unnecessary.

Dumbledore knew what the old man was going to offer before he did.

"Well, looks like you'll have to finish your schooling here at Hogwarts while we uncover just how you got here. Where did you go before?"

The girl frowned, her eyes glancing at the castle like it was a haunted mansion.

"I was home schooled sir, but I'm afraid I'm officially on my own now."

Dumbledore frowned when saw the truth in her words. At least in the last bit.

"Follow me then. School starts back up in a couple of weeks and we can use this time to get you familiar with the hallways and get your school supplies. Then we can get you sorted and..."

Dumbledore ignored the rest of Dippet's rambling as he followed behind the pair. It didn't escape his notice how she examined the walls and portraits with a hollow expression. Her body was tight with tension like she was expecting an attack, her right hand twitching towards her wand.

She was a strange child indeed to show up with well thought up lies and half-truths. Dumbledore, however couldn't decide if she was a victim or a threat. One thing he did know however was she was a product of war.

Dippet allowed the girl to enter his office first as he turned to meet Dumbledore's gaze, his eyes narrowed and face stern. "Keep an eye on her Albus."

The Headmaster may have been completely blinded by Tom's charm, but at least he knew enough to be suspicious of the girl who seemed to just fall from the sky one random early morning.

"If she gives me a reason to think she is a threat I will take care of it, old friend."

Both men shared an understanding look before they entered the office to get the mysterious girl settled in, her brown eyes on a blank spot on the wall where someday an empty portrait frame will hang...


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

* * *

 _"Darkness approaches from the outside. I feel no light inside me strong enough to resist it."_

* * *

 **September 1st 1944, Friday**

To say that Ginny wasn't confused and even a little scared would be lying. It was strange to feel nothing other than the screaming of her own mind to being a complete panicky mess. Every hallway, every wall, everything she looked at; all it did was slice her apart even more and remind her of what she did.

Hogwarts looked different and yet exactly the same before the war. She hated the castle, she really did. She never left her temporary room to avoid the ghost of her own time walking down the halls, leaving the elves to bring her meals which she hardly touched. Her mind was torturing her, and she didn't know how to handle it or make it stop.

To make matters worse, on her second day at Hogwarts she found a worn book sitting right in the center of her bed. Occlumency for Beginners, it read in bold black letters against a blue cover. Inside was a note from none other than Dumbledore.

 _"Bad things happen to witches and wizards who meddle with time. Tread carefully."_

Like she didn't already know that.

She shouldn't have been surprised that Dumbledore saw right through her. He always did, even if he hardly paid her any attention throughout her school years. He never wanted her involved in any Order business. She overheard her mother and father talking about his request to keep her away -not like they wanted her involved anyway.

She didn't think about it at the time.

She was young and naive, but now she felt he didn't want her involved for different reasons. He didn't trust her. She didn't blame him, though it was hardly fair. People aren't born evil, they're made that way.

Did that mean Ginny was turning evil? Was good and bad as black and white as Dumbledore made it seem?

With a sigh, Ginny turned towards the mirror in her temporary room. She examined her long, thick hair, her clean skin, her new uniform which looked almost like the ones from her time except the skirts were longer and the material different; she looked like herself but didn't.

Her eyes seemed darker, heavier and less doe like. Staring back at her was a woman with a straight spine and a guarded face, not a little girl with wide eyes and an overly active tongue. She missed the girl she used to be, but in this new time she needed to embrace the woman that took her place.

She was here for a reason, but she would do research to try and maybe find out how she arrived in the 40's in the first place. She didn't know much about time travel, but she knew it was not a usual occurrence. People who jumped through time got lost, never to be seen again if they go too far.

Is that what would happen to her? Would she never see her family and friends again? Was she going to die here, in a time where she doesn't belong?

Of course, back home she didn't feel like she belonged either...

A knock on the door to her temporary room had her turning around as she called for the person to come in. It was Dumbledore who gave her a smile in greeting, but his eyes didn't twinkle. Not like how they did when he looked at Harry in their younger years.

"Are you ready to be sorted? I tried to talk Armando out of making you do it in front of the whole school, but he said it's important for them to know you before classes start."

Ginny didn't bother to fake a smile as she nodded, her eyes trailing over the beaten trunk full of old school books they were letting her use. The clothing of this time was horrible in her opinion, but Dumbledore was nice enough to let her shop for some casual clothes though it was only a few outfits.

Woman of this time were tortured with horrible fashion, that was for sure.

"After the sorting we'll have your stuff moved to your new room. Which house do you think you'll be placed in Miss Prewett?"

As Ginny followed the tall and lanky wizard through the maze like halls, she thought over his question. Last time the hat put her in Gryffindor, but she begged for it to before it could probably even think. She was a Weasley after all.

This time however, she didn't have any reason to care which house she was put in. She didn't know how she ended up traveling through time or why, but she didn't plan on staying long enough for it to matter.

"Honestly sir, I don't know. I don't think the houses make you as a person anyway."

Because she was put in Gryffindor but was still a murderer, still caved into the darkness in her heart and now felt like she was drowning in it...

"I see," Dumbledore mused as they approached the Great Hall.

Ginny felt pain threaten to take over at the memories this room held in the future, but she had to keep it together. She didn't need anyone to get suspicious before she could find a way out of this mess. She needed to blend in, to fly under the radar, but not be seen as easy prey.

She straightened her spine, her chin held high as she strolled though the Great Hall with the grace and elegance of a pure blooded witch.

"We have a new student this year. She will be starting seventh year. Please give a warm welcome to Miss Ginevra Prewett," Dippet announced before ushering the red head onto the stool.

She kept her head up and eyes forward despite the nerves all the eyes on her picked at. She never minded attention in the past, had even desired it, but right now so many eyes had her feeling claustrophobic.

The hat was gently placed on her head, still a little big as it fell over her eyes, shielding her from the onlookers watching curiously.

 _ **'Ah, you are quite different my dear. Not from this time I see,'**_ the hat spoke softly inside her mind. _ **'You are indeed intelligent, but I'm afraid Ravenclaw has too much dedication for you. You're too much of an improviser and enjoy making it up as you go. Hufflepuff would do you well, but I don't think you would be challenged there. They would admire you, but never truly see beyond what you want them to. You are brave and loyal, no denying that. But...you have a darkness, a drive to you that only Slytherin can nourish. They will challenge you, see through you, stand beside you in ways the other houses won't. Yes, I see great things for you in Slytherin house...'**_

 _Put me in Hufflepuff so I won't be noticed,_ Ginny pleaded.

 _ **'But you have changed my dear. You are not that girl anymore, are you?'**_

 _Don't put me in Slytherin! I need to blend in. I need to be nothing important._

 _ **"I must do what is best my dear. I'm sorry...'**_

"Better be..."

 _No!_

"Slytherin!"

Even as claps echoed throughout the room, Ginny remained frozen in her spot. It was as if all the air was sucked from her lungs. How could she, Ginny Weasley, get placed in Slytherin?

"Go on Miss Prewett, your house is waiting for you."

It was like being drenched in cold ice when she made eye contact with Dumbledore, his face like stone as he regarded her. She understood then that he was willing to give her the benefit of the doubt...until now that was.

She didn't realize that he hated Slytherin's so much, or maybe it was the fact that he knew she came from the future that had him looking at her so coldly. He was going to be watching her closely and she didn't know if she was annoyed or hurt by that.

Still, she could hardly blame him...

It was then she remembered something, something that had her wanting to run from the castle and never look back. Something that made her want to fall to her knees, crying and screaming in anger and fear. Something that filled her with such burning emotion and rage that she was afraid she would choke on it...

Tom Riddle.

She blocked it out, the memories of her and the diary. She used to cry herself to sleep every night until one day she pushed the memories so far back that it was more like a nightmare than a near death experience. It was six years ago that she met Tom Riddle through the diary. She knew it was something that happened, but it was distant as if it happened to someone else.

As she made her way to the Slytherin table, her feet feeling heavy and heart pounding like a drum, her eyes connected with a pair so dark and deep that she was afraid she would fall into them and never come out.

They were an empty void of darkness. Obsidian.

She knew those eyes...

He looked exactly as he did when she saw him through the journal, dark curly hair, high cheek bones, and lean figure. He looked the way she imagined the devil to look, so beautiful it hurt, but so evil it made the beauty twisted and hideous all at the same time. He was all sharp features, and even sitting on a wooden bench among others he stood out. He was a spot of black ink on a stark white piece of paper.

And he was watching her with his head slightly tilted like she was some puzzle for him to find the pieces to.

She didn't want his attention, his eyes on her. If made her stomach churn, her throat dry. She felt dirty, like she needed to scrub his stare off her skin. Her nightmare was real, and she was living it all over again.

She wanted to fall so far under the radar that no one even thought of her. Was Ginny Weasley, the girl who never backed down and fought to stand out, truly gone? Did she die the night she...the night she...the night _He_ was erase from the world for good?

She sat in the furthest seat from him and remained as quiet as possible for the remainder of the feast, not touching an ounce of food. The whole time she could feel his eyes on her, filling her with ice as she fought down the vomit and tears that threatened to escape.

Ginny would have done anything in that moment to have that warm, fiery girl back instead of the husk wearing her skin. She also would have welcomed a dark hole to open under her and suck her in as well.

Either or.

Maybe she was sent back in time to be killed by Tom Riddle. Maybe it was punishment for the things she did that were unforgivable. Either way, she was going to channel some Hermione and go to the library when she could. She was going to return to her own time. She was not going to stay here, in Slytherin with _Him_. With Voldemort.

She missed Harry...

She was going to fix this and get out of this fucked up time line. She was not going to be a coward and let him hurt and manipulate her again.

Ginny Weasley, the brave Gryffindor lion, may have fallen for his lies and charm, but Ginevra Prewett, the sly Slytherin snake, wouldn't...

 **After dinner...**

In her third year she became pretty popular, so to have her house mates ignore her like she was some disinteresting fly on the wall, and having Gryffindor glare at her with obvious loathing, was a bit off putting though it wasn't unwelcome.

The girl she used to be was squirming within her at the sight of Hogwarts in all its glory, but everything was backwards and wrong. She was wearing green instead of red, was heading down to the common room instead of up, was going by Ginevra instead of Ginny, and walking only a few feet in front of her with sure steps was Tom Riddle, Voldemort.

Everything was messed up.

On the right of Riddle was an elegant boy with long snow white hair and expensive robes. He looked almost exactly like Malfoy, but he appeared to be quiet, the speculative type whereas the Malfoy from her time was just a spoiled pain in the ass.

On Riddles left was a smaller boy she didn't recognize in the slightest. His hair was brown and face oddly kind as he joked with another of Riddle's gang of future Death Eaters. She could see an ancestor of Sirius's (though the boy's face was much harder) and she assumed she would meet even more ancestor's of her classmates as the year went on.

Riddle on the other hand didn't wear expensive robes, though he held himself with enough elegance and grace for it to not matter. He kept to himself as the prefects took care of the first years.

But there was one thing that was clear.

Slytherin house worshiped Tom Riddle.

She could hear the girls around her whisper about the boys leading the group of Slytherin's, gushing about how attractive they are. How attractive _he_ is.

It took everything Ginny had to not snap, to not run to Dumbledore and tell him everything.

But he didn't trust her. He never trusted her, not even in her own time. She was in this alone...

When they reached the common room she didn't hang around the group of snakes, instead heading straight to her room. She didn't care to look at her new living space, unable to handle the change of colors and colder atmosphere.

The Gryffindor common room was more of a home to her than her actual home. It was where she had first kissed Harry...

She just couldn't bare to see a physical representation of how much she had changed since then.

She found her small area on the far side of the room and closed the dark green curtains around her bed, and then she curled into herself like Hermione's cat used to...

She could feel herself shatter slowly, her breathing becoming labored, until she finally cracked enough for tears to come though which continued long after she drifted off...

~W~W~W~

 _Her eyes flickered before her vision cleared, a young man of only sixteen calmly staring back at the young 11 year old with an expression so blank that it was unnatural._

 _She felt tears sting her eyes, a sob catching in her chest as she stared at the handsome boy._

 _Everything besides her was a faded gray, blurred around the edges; a reminder that none of this was real and yet real enough to harm her._

 _Because that's what he had been doing, possessing her and making her do these horrible acts against her will. She poured so much of herself into the diary, so much of her young girlish feelings. She told him things she never told anyone and for a while he, the diary, was all she had._

 _But he was stoic as he regarded her, so different from the kindness he was displaying all the times before._

 _And it hurt. Her body hurt. Everything hurt._

 _"Tom...what's happening?" she whispered from her spot on the ground._

 _She didn't recognize where they were, but the walls and floor were stone, the room so huge that she couldn't even see all of it from her position on the ground._

 _Tom tilted his head, his dark eyes staring down at her -down at her crumbled body with his arms crossed and chin held high. Even then he was painfully beautiful. Having him look at her the way he was caused her to squirm away from him, which only made his eyes flash darkly._

 _She was afraid of that look. She was afraid of him. She felt betrayed by the only friend she had._

 _No one at Hogwarts liked her. Not even her own brother hung out with her._

 _Not even Harry noticed her. No one noticed what was happening to her...she was alone._

 _"You're dying."_

 _Her eyes widened as the boy before her finally spoke, his silky tenor voice oddly gentle even though he was looking at her like...like she was a nuisance -a bug that needed to be squished._

 _"You lied," she mumbled, an odd numbness taking over her body._

 _She had a feeling it was completely unrelated to her draining magic._

 _"Yes," he answered without a beat. There was no ruefulness to be found._

 _He said he was a friend. That he cared about her, understood her; that she was extraordinary._

 _He lied..._

 _Anger, red hot and burning, seared her insides as she looked at the boy standing before her, so painfully casual as he sucked her dry of her very essence. The need to lash out was strong, causing her magic to react inside her as it struggled to leave her and enter him._

 _And then she went cold all over, so cold that it burned worse than the fire that was there before. Her vision blurred, black licking at the edges, and still he remained unresponsive, so indifferent as he looked on like she was a wounded animal he couldn't be bothered with._

 _Her magic exploded, swirling around her and completely feral with rage and pain. She could see it as it ruffled his clothing and blew her red hair out of her face._

 _She wanted to...she wanted to hurt him the way he hurt her! She wanted him to pay for manipulating her and gaining her trust! She wanted to make him pay..._

 _He smiled then._

 _It was only a slight upturn of his lips, completely different from the full smile she had foolishly fallen for before. She could see it now, see how it never truly reached his eyes._

 _This smile, however did._

 _"My little Ginevra..." he said softly as he walked towards her, completely undisturbed by her display of accidental magic._

 _He elegantly knelt down and reached out a long fingered hand, but she ducked away, narrowing her eyes at him as her magic grew more hostile though he seemed unperturbed._

 _His hand awkwardly hovered near her face before he slowly lowered it._

 _And then he sighed, his dark eyes looking her over. "It's nothing personal. My diary ended up in your hands and it's imperative that I gain my own body."_

 _"Why!" Ginny nearly screamed, tears of betrayal and fear falling down her pale cheeks._

 _The empty black holes he had for eyes flickered over her face with a flash of amusement, that same smile twitching on his lips though it was impossible to tell what he was thinking._

 _"You're not like the others Ginevra. It pains me that it was you who found my diary. You could have saved your family from themselves. You could have helped make a new world. Perhaps if things were different...I could have nurtured your true self, the one I can taste in your magic just waiting to be released. Had you been like them than it would have taken considerably longer to get to this point..."_

 _And then her magic seemed to freeze before entering him, causing her to gasp in horrified pain. His dark eyes were so dilated she couldn't even see the whites, his lids becoming heavy and mouth parting._

 _And then he flickered and disappeared, leaving her all alone with nowhere to go._

 _She screamed and screamed...until her throat became raw and everything finally went black..._


	3. Chapter 3

**Happy Holidays!**

* * *

 **Chapter Three**

* * *

" _People often believed they were safer in the light, thinking monsters only came out at night. But safety – like light – is a façade."_

* * *

 _ **A month later...**_ **  
**

Ginny wasn't one for the library, books, or studying. There was one time when she was dating Dean that they made out in the Charms section, but the rest of her time spent "studying" was full of throwing paperclips at Hermione's wild main of hair when she wasn't looking.

Ginevra however, spent all her free time surrounded by books. If she wasn't doing homework to distract her chaotic mind, she was learning about time travel and different methods and theory's.

It seemed however, that Hogwarts library was a dead end. There was nothing other than thesis papers and random disappearances linked to time travel.

She took notice of the books that would be banned in her time, and found herself reading when she wasn't studying or trying to find a way back home.

She was completely alienated from Slytherin house and she couldn't have been happier considering the circumstances.

She performed well enough in class, better than she did in her earlier Hogwarts years, but she never participated in answering questions unless she was called upon. Her new studious nature had her answering the questions despite it being on the spot.

Regardless, she managed to remain under the radar, completely unimportant to those around her.

Every now and again she would notice Malfoy of all people regarding her carefully, and when she would catch him, he would look right back at her with a quirk of his brow.

Tom Riddle, Head Boy extraordinaire and the very definition of a sociopath, didn't seem to notice her in the slightest.

But Axabras Malfoy did.

So Ginny pretended to not know the answers in class if they were difficult and spent even more time away from the other students, even skipping breakfast and lunch in favor of sitting by the Black Lake.

Slughorn from this time seemed to notice her as much as he did her fifth year, which meant he couldn't even remember her name half the time. He was too busy gushing over future Voldemort and his minions.

She refused to even so much as give the mass Murder a glance, not even when he saved the whole class from getting muck from a volatile potion gone wrong all over them.

He won Slytherin a lot of points that day, and it was talked about for a week.

She gritted her teeth and remained disinterested while the school praised a future dictator.

She found that she wasn't very fond of Dumbledore in this time either. She didn't like how he put Harry with his horrible Muggle family and manipulated him his entire life, but she could understand why he did what he did despite his methods.

They all won in the end thanks to his manipulations.

But Dumbledore in this time was big on favorites and it showed. Not one of the Slytherin's even tried in Transfiguration's other than to pass their course work. There were not many points added, just a simple, _"_ _Well done._ _"_

She couldn't help but wonder if Dumbledore had a hand in creating the war they all fought against. Just like with Harry, Dumbledore made Riddle, _Voldemort_ , go back to the orphanage. Just like with Harry he was alienated every summer and cut off from the place that was his true home.

And now Dumbledore was alienating Ginny as well, though everything he did was done with a smile.

It was condescending.

When they would have to get partners in class, he would make her work alone and never once asked if she needed help which didn't bother her in the slightest.

She was a natural at Charms and Transfiguration's.

He would ask her questions she had no way of knowing the answers to, and then he would belittle her with that same gentle smile but cold eyes. It was so slight that no one else seemed to notice...but she did.

When it was time to go to sleep, Ginny would close the curtains around her bed and ignore the other girls in the room. They ignored her too, seemingly forgetting that she was even in the same room.

And each night when she finally drifted off to sleep, she would dream of the diary, of Harry, of war; she was lucky if she got even three hours.

She went that way for some time without any incidents -dark circles underneath her eyes and with the best marks she's ever had in class, granted she was nowhere near Hermione's marks.

She barely tasted her food anymore, but ate out of habit before leaving the Great Hall to either go to the Black Lake or the library.

Tom Riddle didn't notice of her, Ginny so far in the background that she couldn't imagine why he would even bother to know her name.

The teachers loved him (except Dumbledore). The students worshiped him (except her). Even Gryffindor's were kind to him (except one messy haired kid who looked a lot like Harry). He walked through the halls as if he owned them, his face impassive but never unkind. He seemed to steer clear of her as much as she steered clear of him.

Who was she to question a good thing?

It was one afternoon in Defense class, when a wayward jinx came sailing her way from nowhere right after she took her usual seat, that ruined everything.

She lifted up her wand with lightning speed, a faint pink shield surrounding her and neutralizing the spell on the spot. Defense class in the 40's was just as wild as it was in her time. It was a battlefield the moment the Professor is out of sight.

She didn't think anything of it.

It took her a moment to realize that the entire class was staring at her with wide eyes. It took her an even longer moment to realize she had not only put up a shield without even looking, but had done it silently.

And it was strong enough to completely neutralize a jinx.

She would stay up late at night practicing spells in the Room of Requirements when the Death Eaters were controlling Hogwarts. Simple spells or advanced spells, it didn't matter. She wanted to make sure that she could defend herself. It was war and she was determined to fight and protect her loved ones.

Even though there was a war going on, Grindelwald on the rise, Hogwarts was untouched. What she just did...it wasn't common knowledge among her class. They felt they had no reason to know something so advanced.

It was then that she felt her skin burning as she turned in her seat, her heart hammering in her chest. Her lungs felt on fire, her head dizzy.

She slipped up...she _fucked_ up...

Guarded light brown met hooded dark gray.

His lips tilted up, head cocked to the side...

She was out of the room before the Professor even arrived, her panicked feet taking her to the medical ward. She must have looked worse than she thought, because she was ushered into bed and a potion was being shoved down her throat before she could even think.

This time when she slept there were no dreams.

Later that evening when Ginny finally came to, her head clearer than it had been for weeks, and her body feeling a little heavy, she realized she was not alone.

Sitting in the chair next to her was none other than Axabras Malfoy, spine straight and eyes like two crystal blue glaciers. He was regarding her the way he always did...but this close she could see nothing malicious behind his gaze, only curiosity.

He was Riddle's right hand man, much like his future son was going to be.

But the difference between the Malfoy before her, and the Malfoy senior of her time, was respect. Riddle seemed to respect Axabras more than his other minions...and that made Ginny nervous as hell.

He had been watching her and was now sitting next to her and had been for who knows how long. The big question was _why_.

She remembered the way Riddle looked at her. It was as if Christmas had come early. It was as if the cat had finally caught the mouse.

No, Riddle didn't seem to pay her much mind...but his right hand man kept a close eye on her.

Which meant Riddle told him to.

"Can I help you?"

The words fell out of her mouth before she could stop them, laced in a sarcasm she would assume he wouldn't care for. His expression intensified, but it didn't harden. It was as if he were assessing her, weighing her worth.

But the way he was looking at her was oddly gentle, something she didn't think she could ever say about a Malfoy.

It made her tense.

"I apologize if I startled you, Miss Prewett. We Slytherin's take care of each other, and as a Prefect I wanted to make sure you didn't fall behind in your classes. You've been doing quite well."

She blinked as he held out a small pile of assignments, neatly stacked with clean copied notes.

 _What the fuck..._

"Oh," she mumbled as she took the papers from him, though hesitantly.

She was confused and quite frankly a little scared by the turn of events.

Here was a Malfoy being completely kind to her in his own way. Here was a _Slytherin_ being kind to her. The young Ginny within her squirmed and wanted to hit him with a Bat-Bogey. Ginevra gave him a nod in thanks and remained quiet, a complete difference from the outgoing, outspoken girl she once was.

She realized then when they fell into a comfortable silence that she wouldn't have fit in Gryffindor. Not anymore.

"You've been watching me. Why?"

She turned her attention back towards Malfoy who never took his eyes off her. He looked so much like Draco Malfoy that it was nearly painful, but his eyes were a lighter blue and his demeanor completely different.

He was quite handsome she could admit, if only to herself. He looked like the perfect aristocrat, but seemed to have a humility his son and grandson would grow to lack.

It was a shame that he worshiped a psychopath.

"Slytherin's take care of each other, Miss Prewett," he repeated, " Our noble house is united and more organized than the other houses. It was impossible to not notice a beautiful witch such as yourself being segregated. Tom Riddle, our Head Boy, was concerned and gave me the task of helping you settle in since I am a Prefect. I mean no offense."

Oh shit.

So _he_ did notice her after all, but passed her off to his most trusted minion. That thought had her mouth tugging downward, but her face was an uncharacteristic cool mask of calm.

Well, it _used_ to be uncharacteristic.

"But why? Surely I am of no importance. By the end of the school year we'll never see each other again," she stated dryly, her eyes narrowing slightly in suspicion.

In this time Voldemort, Riddle, is building his army of future followers. He's a liar, a manipulator. Harry knew him as Voldemort, completely crazy and power obsessed.

But she knew him as Tom Riddle, the poor orphan, who is impossible to predict and hides behind faces that all seem equally genuine. While he wants power and immortality, he is still _human,_ still very much in control of himself.

The fact that he was keeping tabs on her could mean nothing good.

But the fact that he wasn't doing it himself meant that she wasn't viewed as anything too important or threatening.

Him still being completely sane, made him that much more dangerous and unpredictable.

Malfoy chuckled, completely surprising her at the mirth displayed on his stern face. He gave her a closed lipped smile and leaned forward in his chair, looking at her from beneath his lashes.

"I know this is the first real conversation we've had, Miss Prewett, and I assume that your reasons for being here are less than ideal, but I would like to get to know you better. Sit with me at dinner. Let me help you find a place in our noble house. You will find little kindness from the other houses. It's best to have allies."

What...

Without even so much as waiting for her to respond, he stood from his seat, giving her one last amused look like there was some joke she wasn't privy to, before sweeping out the room with a swish of his robes.

 _So that's where Malfoy's father get's it,_ she noted, chuckling if not a bit hysterically.

As she sat alone on the firm little bed, she realized that he never actually answered her. She really shouldn't have been surprised by the games being played...

She groaned and closed her eyes, leaning back on the bed as a headache began to pound behind her eyelids. It was all too much, and she wasn't sure how much more she could handle before snapping.

If only she could just kill Tom Riddle while he's at his weakest and avoid this entire mess...

Her eyes snapped open, her body sitting up as a wide grin stretched tightly across her face.

Why was she hiding away like a coward when she has a chance to do something good, to save Harry from all that pain? Sure, changing the timeline was messy and dangerous, but what happened to her really didn't matter.

She could save Harry's parents. She could save Lupin, Tonks, Sirius...Fred.

She could save so many people!

And she could do it all by causing one last death...

One glance at the clock told her that she had just enough time to freshen up before going to dinner. It was time for her housemates to meet Ginevra Prewett...and it was time for her to leave Ginny Weasley behind.

For good.

~W~W~W~

The style of the 40's was girly and atrocious.

The shoes were tight black leather with a small heel that made Ginny's already tall frame taller, and it took her much too long to make her long red locks curly. She drew the line at makeup, her old tomboyish ways still very much intact.

She, however, looked like a perfectly brought up pureblood daughter.

She wanted to Bat-Bogy herself!

The change in truth was subtle, but it was one more thing that separated her from who she used to be. She knew if she was going to be able to follow through with her plan, that she needed to stop comparing herself to a shadow.

She was no longer a little girl. She was a woman -a woman who fought in a war and lived to see another day. Tom Riddle plagued her nightmares since she was eleven years old. He hunted Harry since he was born.

He deserves to die. He deserves to _suffer_.

Maybe then she could be free of the darkness in her heart...

With a deep sigh, she left the empty common room. Everyone was already at dinner, leaving the halls painfully empty. She wanted nothing more than to run away, but she kept her feet moving, her steps more confident than she felt.

She squared her shoulders, emptied her face, which was becoming much too easy, and entered the Great Hall despite her anxiety. Without even an once of hesitation she made her way to the Slytherin table, towards the side she avoided like the plague.

She could feel a shift in her magic, in her mind, as her eyes settled on Riddle. Her heart thundered in her chest, her skin heating the closer she got, and yet she felt a determination flooding through her that wasn't there before.

Her magic was coaxing her, guiding her, whispering to her.

She hated him.

 _ **Hated**_ him.

As one, the group of future murderers turned towards her, watching closely like they were surprised she showed. Had she been able to see herself, she would have seen that she resembled barely contained fire, the amber in her eyes bright and hair sparking alluringly with untapped magic.

Her focus however was on the monster hiding in sheep's clothing, sitting there innocently right in plain sight. He had yet to look up from his meal, but she knew he was aware of her approaching them.

His dark hair was covering his eyes...but he was smiling.

The same smile he gave her in the diary before he sucked away almost all her magic, leaving her to die without a second thought.

Time slowed as his head rose, his unnaturally dark eyes connecting with hers.

Thump...thump...thump...

Her heart sputtered in her chest, her magic fighting their restraints almost painfully. She wanted nothing more than to kill him, to tear him apart piece by piece, to make him suffer the way he made thousands of others suffer.

She could imagine it all in her head, the fear in his eyes as she left him to die all alone.

What happened to her didn't matter. She could do it now, end it all now. It would be easy. He wouldn't have a chance to even fight back. She could kill him in the same room that Harry killed him. All she had to do was lift her hand and say the words...

"Why hello, Miss Prewett. I'm happy you took my offer."

She blinked, everything snapping back into focus like a rubber band. Her ears were ringing, her eyes burning; her hand was holding her wand. She didn't remember taking it from her pocket.

Hooded eyes glanced down at the wand in her hand before lazily flickering back to her. He looked amused, but it was hard to tell what he was thinking.

What was happening to her?

"You have a point. Allies and all," she said flatly, finally ripping her eyes away from the future Dark Lord and turning her attention to Malfoy.

She felt herself calm drastically as she focused on something else, but she couldn't shake off his eyes on her.

"Well, have a seat. We were just discussing the potions project we'll be getting next class."

She wanted to believe that her sitting in front of Riddle instead of to the left of Malfoy where there was also an empty seat meant nothing. She wanted to believe she wasn't afraid of the seemingly harmless teenager in front of her. She wanted to believe that the hatred and the need for revenge was completely natural.

She wanted to believe that she wasn't becoming afraid of herself.

There was something sinister within her, something that she couldn't deny no matter how much she wanted to. She didn't know what to do and how to make it go away.

But she felt it stir like a hungry beast everytime she looked at Tom Riddle.

No matter how much she wanted to believe it was because she knew what he would become in the future...she knew that wasn't the only reason.

She mechanically made her plate, sticking to fruit and salad. The whole time she could feel herself burning, but she didn't dare look for fear that she would lose control and snap. She wanted to kill Riddle, but she needed to be smart about it.

Doing it in a room full of students and teachers was much too risky.

Around her easy conversation flowed, but Ginny and Riddle both remained completely silent. She focused on keeping her food down and not showing just how unnerved she was, but the food tasted awful.

In fact, it tasted like ash.

Her hand froze, a frown tugging at her lips as she examined the apple slice in her hand. It was green and healthy. The food may not of had much of a taste to her lately, but it never tasted like pure ash before...

"Is everything okay, Miss Prewett? You look a bit green."

Her eyes snapped up, her expression slightly wild.

She forgot how smooth his voice was, always so low in volume and yet full of power at the same time. He surprisingly didn't speak much.

She wasn't surprised to find him watching her, she was something new, a potential pawn to find a place for. That's all he will ever see people as -pawns.

It's true what they say...

The most poisonous, evil things hide in the most beautiful.

And he was beautiful -A stone statue.

"I'm fine," she answered coldly before turning her attention to Malfoy. "I'm afraid I need to retire early. I will see you in class tomorrow," she said in a lighter tone before getting up and leaving without another word.

Once she was away from the Great Hall she took off running, just barely making it to the lavatory before throwing up everything in her stomach.

Something was wrong...something was very, very wrong.

Unbeknownst to Ginny a figure was right outside the door, having followed her without her noticing. Their face was a perfect mask of indifference, even at the sound of her getting sick and sicker until she finally fell silent.

He knew the symptoms all too well. The poor girl had no idea what was happening to her, what she was turning into. It becomes worse the more you fight it. It can even rip your magic into shreds and kill you from the inside out.

He read that it was quite painful.

He knew what her being here meant, and while he detested the implication's, he was nothing if not logical. If he messed up at some point in the future, than he would simply have to make sure he did it right this time around.

He would not be defeated and she would make sure of that rather she liked it or not.

"Axabras, continue keeping an eye on her and report to me daily. Befriend her if you must. I need her to feel secure. I need her to trust you before I can make my move."

"Yes, my Lord."

Lord Voldemort was nothing if not patient if it meant getting what he wanted.

Ginevra Prewett (he wondered if that was her actual name) was a weapon he sent to himself; a plan, within a plan, within a plan, if you will. He will exploit her for all she was worth, and then he will kill her just as he will anyone who can link Tom Riddle to Voldemort when the time came to reveal his true self. She was a liability just as much as she was a weapon.

He may have been patient, but he never said he was merciful.


End file.
